Brutal Romance
by Laeirinn
Summary: The difference between love and hate is sometimes a fragile line. How Duncan should have responded to Methos's Jimmy speech in Comes A Horseman rather than saying, "We're through."


Title: Brutal Passion

Author: Leirinn

Pairing: Methos/ Duncan MacLeod

Highlander: The Series (Season 5)

Summary:

The difference between love and hate is sometimes a fragile line. How Duncan should have responded to Methos's Jimmy speech in Comes A Horseman rather than saying, "We're through."

Author's Note:

Peter Wingfield's performance in this scene just sends Goosebumps through me even to this day. The tension, manic passion, and intensity of the emotions between Adrien Paul and Peter Wingfield always made me think there were many alternative endings to this scene. I have always wanted to write one of those alternative endings to explore the brutal, intense passion that blurs between the line of love and hate that plays out in this scene.

Disclaimer:

All characters and rights of the Highlander: The Series belong to CBS Television Distribution. This fanfiction has no intention of earning any royalties or breaking any copyrights held by the production company. It is for the sole purpose of free enjoyment of the fans of the TV show who believe that Methos and MacLeod had terrific chemistry on screen and dreamt of a romance between these two immortal souls.

Feedback is always welcome.

What you see and what you hear depends a great deal on where you are standing.

It also depends on what sort of person you are.

~ C. S. Lewis ~

_Is that what you want to hear?_

_The answer is yes._

Mephitic revulsion played across MacLeod's face as Methos answered his question.

The Highlander stared down at him as if he was an abhorrent abomination.

_Oh yes…_

Finally, disbelief and anguish played across the face of the younger immortal.

He felt the Highlander's grip on his jacket loosen as if he was going to let him go.

Duncan stood poised to speak again.

This would be it.

Methos prepared himself for the blow.

A blow that never came.

Methos startled as he slammed back into the side of his car once again. Bruising ferocious fingers griping hard the curves of his shoulders as the full weight of an outraged highlander pressing against him. Then the brutal sensation of being kissed forcefully without mercy assaulted his lips. Tumultuous punishing kisses embraced him a kiss that was all a clash of teeth, passion, and ire.

Even after five thousand years, unexpected things can happen.

The kiss was brief tortment.

Opening his ancient green eyes, Methos found himself staring up into dark brown orbs of Duncan MacLeod. The highlander studied him intensely. He watched as the anger seep away from MacLeod's eyes. Replaced with a look of wonder, awe, and loving gentleness. He watched those warm mahogany eyes worship every detail of his face before their owner leaned forward to recapture his lips in a kiss so tender, it was devastating. As the Highlander's fingers brushed through his hair deepening their kiss, Methos felt his defenses start to crumble, letting the long pent up desire he held back break-free. He knew as he returned Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod's kiss, there was no turning back from this moment.

The kiss was frightening, joyous, and electrifying, all at once.

He was left bereft at the sudden loss of those magnificent lips.

"Methos, please I need to know you want this too."

Only bloody Duncan MacLeod would stop mid plunder to clarify dubious consent issues.

"Do you think I would allow you to kiss me if I didn't want it, MacLeod?" He bit back. "Though if you don't bloody finish what you have started, I will take your head!"

The Highlander seized Methos's lips again in a demanding, bruising kiss. The raw emotion and feeling exposed by both burned their passions higher. Methos did not know how they stumbled back into his building and up to his apartment. He was lost to the tempest storm of Duncan's possessive kisses. Clothes were quickly shed as their lovemaking began in earnest. The touches were firm, gentle but passionate replacing the previously angry, bruising grip from their earlier contact.

He felt Duncan surge forward, pushing himself in deeply, seating himself fully inside.

Both immortals groaned in unison at the act that made them one.

"Move, MacLeod." He groaned impatiently up at the younger immortal desperately wanting to be lost in the power of sexual chemistry of the moment.

In the rush of his release, Methos heard the Highlander call his name as he rode out his own pleasure before stilling his hips. The two of them lay there for a few moments; basking in the afterglow of the rage, anger, tenderness, and raw emotion of their union had produced. Panting softly, their breaths mingled as their racing hearts slowed. Methos felt the manic bubble of laughter escaped his lips as he felt Duncan lower his head to rest in the curve of his neck. Closing his eyes, Methos smiled incredulously into the shade of the darkness descending into his bedroom now the sun had set. As his senses returned, he felt the weight of MacLeod bearing down on his lithe, muscular body that stark contrast to the muscular bulk of the highlander who rested upon the top of him.

"Methos," he felt his lover whisper against the skin of his neck.

In disbelief, his fingers skimmed up the shoulders of his Highlander lover.

The golden boy of the immortal world had just made brutal and punishing love to him.

For all the stars in the sky, he had never expected that outcome in a million years.

He had severely underestimated the boy-scout.

_Kronos might be right you're getting sloppy, old man._ Methos thought to himself.

Staring up the ceiling, Methos tried to remember why they had not done this before now. How many cold showers had he endured since that first meeting in Paris a few years ago? Too many, he thought as he felt the lips trace the column of his throat before he lost himself to the heaven of Duncan MacLeod's lovemaking for a second time.

Later, he lay on his side, studying his lover in the silvery moon light. The darkness hid his regretful observation of the dark shape slumbering on the other side of the mattress. He wanted nothing more to stay here with the man he more than desperately loved.

The time had come and gone for them.

Kronos would destroy all he loved to get Methos back.

He dressed silently picking up the fallen evidence of their passionate lovemaking. Methos tried not to look back. He knew if he did, he would be lost. His eyes drifted back for one last look as he paused after slipping his shirt on. The beautiful dark form of the highlander caused his breath to hitch.

How long had he wished for this moment?

Goddam Cassandra and her bloody vendetta.

He should have killed the witch years ago.

If only…

Methos took a savage intake of air shaking with effort as he collected himself.

The survivor mask slipping back into place.

He needed to continue with his plan… if Kronos got a shot at MacLeod's head…

As he moved to slip away in the shadows back to the mackles of his brother, a warm hand caught his wrist. He forced himself to look away out the window of his apartment, across the city of Seacourver. He battled for control with his inner demons and love of Duncan MacLeod. His mind raced, calculating his odds for survival for how to play this moment.

"MacLeod…" Methos started to say struggling with the inner battle of flight or fight.

"Methos?" Duncan questioningly whispered as he sat up, sensing the tension of the elder immortal standing at the edge of the bed.

Methos felt himself swallow several times nervously as he battled with his emotions.

Oh to the hell with it!

"Mac," Methos said, leaning into the protective hold of his Highlander. "I am in trouble..."


End file.
